Thursday, 17 April 2014

The thing with writing...

Here’s what I find difficult about writing.

Sometimes your
mind can be burning with ideas. Your characters chatter away in your head, you
see scenes- image on image like beads
on a rosary*- you can’t concentrate on conversations people are having around
you, you drift off into storyworld while you’re in the middle of shampooing
your hair in the shower and you stand there with the suds dripping off you and your skin
turning wrinkly while plot-holes are fixed, motivation is explained and the way
forward is revealed to you… and then, then you sit down at your computer to
write it all down, feverish with anticipation, your fingers tingling with the
words waiting to pour out of yourbrain,
down your arm and out through the keys on the keyboard and… and… AND

Nothing.

The words don’t come.

Story lines submerge themselves once more beneath
the fogginess of Other Things. You sit, searching your brain for those bright gems
of insight you just had and… nothing.

You start thinking about the washing up, about the bills you
haven’t paid. You start thinking about how you should be mowing the lawn, how
you need to take the car in to get that engine light checked out, you notice that
the windows need cleaning, remember you haven’t got any milk, that you were
meant to reply to an email from your mum, that you haven’t checked social media
this morning and before you know it you’re on Facebook browsing the lives of
other people.

Is this just me? Why does it happen? When will a story sucker be invented? You know,
a little gadget that we can plug into our brains and that will simply suck the
story straight out as it’s supposed to be. Neat and tidy, perfect as it exists
inside us before our reality filters and normal life filters get in the way.

Is writing a form of procrastination for life and life a
form of procrastination for writing? All I know is that this morning I knew
exactly how the next chapter of my story should be written. I KNEW. And now
when I sit down to type it out, I find myself typing this instead. That’s what’s
so annoying about writing – it’s so easy in your head but when you come to pin
it down on the blank page it’s like catching dandelion down on a windy day
wearing boxing gloves.